


City of Shadows

by theravensisters



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Action, Fantasy, Multi, Out of Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theravensisters/pseuds/theravensisters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clary has always has always been in between worlds. She is not a Shadowhunter, and she is definitely not a mundane. She grew up in a mundane world, but she fights demons with her mom while on the run from Valentine. Thing start to look up after she meets Simon, but when the web of lies surrounding her past begins to fall apart, Clay knows that she can never return to the way she once lived. Not in a city full of shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City of Shadows

“Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,  
… That mak’st my blood cold?”  
-Julius Caesar, 4.3.l

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip up jacket, shaking his shaved head. “You can’t bring that in here.”

“Aw, come on.” The kid hoisted it up over his head, a wooden beam pointed at one end. “It’s part of my costume.”

The bouncer raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?”

The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking for a pandemonium, but Clary knew better.

Clary shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her sensor. She could feel its vibrations coursing through her fingers where she touched it dancing them up her arm. Caught you Clary thought to herself. The boy in red was definitely an eidolon demon, a shape shifter. The demon was explaining something about vampires to the bouncer, most likely trying to talk his way in, but Clary wasn’t listening. Her friend, Simon, had noticed the sensor and made a grab for it but Clary, with her Nephilim reflexes had whipped it out of his reach. “Why do you always carry around two phones?” he asked, digging his empty hand into his pocket.

“Um-” she stuttered without a clue how to answer. “I have-um-it’s for work.”

Simon raised a brow. “You don’t have a job…” She racked her brain, “It’s for my mom’s work.”

“Your mom’s work?”

Clary had spent her life telling lies but when put on the spot she was still no good at it

“Yeah, well, she used to give people this phone number but then- uh- I wanted a phone and she- uh- wanted a new one. But she didn’t know you could get a new phone without changing your number so she gave me this phone but then I got a new one, but some people still call her on this one so I carry it around.”

Simon gave her a weird look. Clary knew that she wasn’t fooling him, but he was too nice to press her for more. “What does your mom do anyways?”

“She’s an artist.” Jocelyn was in fact an artist. It was their main source of income and how they decorated their apartment.

“Really I had no idea” Simon stated, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“The ginormous collection of paint brushes never gave it away?”

Simon grinned at her and looked down at his hands. Clary had moved around all her life, never growing close to anyone besides her mom and her uncle Luke. So, her new found friendship with Simon; a mundane, was a confusing novelty. She and her mom were what they called Shadowhunters; also known as Nephilim. Supposedly, they were the ‘offspring of angels and humans’ but Clary had a hard time believing it. She didn’t feel very angelic. According to her mother, Shadowhunters had some sort of mandate from heaven to rid the earth of all demons. She knew there was power in the world, but unseen angels? That was pushing it. The demons were real; those she could kill. With or without heaven.

Clary had been sheltered as a child, which prevented her from exposing herself as one of the Nephilim to Mundanes. She had been home schooled up until a little over a year ago, but she had eventually wanted to be part of the mundane world she had been forced to live in. Her mother, albeit reluctantly, had agreed.

Clary could remember when her mother explained to her why she could see what no one else could. She had been around five at the time, when her mother told her never to tell anyone about warlocks or faeries, because only Clary, her mom, and Luke could see them. At first, she had been thrilled to be part of such a secret. But as time passed, she realized that having secrets meant having no one to share them with. It was later that she learned about their entire race and past. Clary’s mother Jocelyn had fled from the Shadowhunter life after she had been in, what Clary now understood as, an abusive relationship with a man named Valentine; he had had an obsession with purifying the Shadowhunter race and Jocelyn discovered that he had secretly conducted horrible, tortuous experiments on downworlders; keeping vampires covered in holy water, or keeping werewolves covered in silver and melting the skin off of them in the hopes of discovering new ways in which to strengthen himself and his race. When Jocelyn found out that she was pregnant with Clary, she realized that he would not find experimenting on downworlders and himself enough, he would attempt to experiment on his child too. She could not raise a child around such a monster and so she decided to run from Valentine and leave life as one of the Nephilim behind. Seeing her flight as a terrible betrayal, he killed himself and Jocelyn’s parents by setting their house aflame. As if losing her parents wasn’t enough, leaving the Shadowhunter life to live with Mundanes is illegal in Nephilim society and punishable by death. So they avoided Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, lest they be found and brought before the law.

Simon, noticing her distraction, dropped the subject and followed her vacant stare to the demon. “You think he’s cute,” Simon elbowed her. “Don’t you?” Clary flashed a cheeky half smile in his direction but didn’t answer. She looked back at the demon, definitely a shape shifter. The monster, looking like a boy, walked past the bouncer and through the door, toting behind him a long, supposedly foam spike. Clary attempted to track him through the crowd, but she soon lost sight of him amid the sea of colorful hair extensions and metallic corsets.

Clary fidgeted with the long black sleeves she wore to hide her runes, tattoos that grant a Shadowhunter new powers and gifts. She wouldn’t have minded people thinking she had tattoos, but runes faded and disappeared. Mundanes weren’t used to vanishing tattoos.

They eventually made it past the bouncer, into the club. Clary immediately scanned the crowd for the Eidolon; not spotting, it she began to feel a touch of panic rising in her chest. Maybe it had already hauled some poor Mundie away for a feast. Simon followed her around the club, making comments about the DJ’s quality work, his cross-dressing habits, and his tendency to sleep with her mom. Clary could tell that he was just trying to get her attention and she would have loved to give it to him, but some things were more important. Clary spotted the monster. He was prowling through the crowd on his way towards a gorgeous girl in a white dress, who was making eyes at him. She would have enjoyed trying to draw the stunning girl, but just then she was on a mission. She turned to Simon. “I’m going to talk to him,” she shouted over the pulsating music. “I’ll be back.” then she slipped between black leather clad dancers and disappeared into the smoke of the dance floor, before Simon had a chance to say anything. The girl in white was smiling flirtatiously over at the demon, making her way to a storage closet. Run! Clary wanted to scream at the girl. 

Clary slowed her pace before the monster saw her running. Once she was close enough, she put a hand on his shoulder and swung him around. His violent, green eyes flashed and his face contorted into a twisted sneer that disappeared as he regained his control. Apparently, he did not enjoy being interrupted. She twined her arms around his neck, and in desperation leaned in close to whisper “Wanna go somewhere private?” he blinked at her in surprise, before looking back at the girl in white, who was now staring at them in shock with just a dash of horror. He turned back to Clary as if to say no. She panicked, if he said no she would have to attack him here in the club. Without another foreseeable option, she grabbed his face, pulled it towards her own, and kissed him.

She tried to make it a good kiss, but she was too busy choking down the bile that rose in her throat. Her mother would not be pleased if she ever found out about this one. Pulling away, Clary reached behind her and opened a metal door marked NO ADMITTANCE – STORAGE in red paint, grabbed his hand, and pulled him in after her.  
Once they were both inside the closet, Clary shut the door. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. “What’s your name?” he asked in a low whisper.

“It doesn’t matter.”

She tried to spin away, but his hand caught in the fabric of her dress, pulling it off her shoulder revealing a faded iratze. His eyes widened as he realized what a mistake he had made “you-”she cut him off. “Me.” Reaching towards the hem of her dress in a lightning fast motion, she pulled a dagger out of her concealed thigh sheath and stabbed him. It hit him right above the collar bone, piercing skin and muscle, and pinned him to the wall. She followed up by plunging another dagger into the opposite shoulder, making it impossible for him to move without enduring almost intolerable pain. She then reached into her well used lime tote and drew out another knife, bigger than the two daggers. This, she held against his throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “I’m going to enjoy this.” There was a loud thump against the door. She jumped and left a trail of blood across the demons chin. The bang came again and the door was blown clear off its hinges. Standing in the door frame were the foggy shapes of two men –no boys in all black leather and the girl in white. Clary attempted to conceal the knife behind her slim frame but there was nothing she could do to hide the bleeding demon pinned against the wall.

They all stood frozen for a few seconds before one boy shouted. “What the Hell!?” he had dark, faintly greased hair and sloping shoulders that suggested he slouched. On first glance, Clary thought he was rather skinny, until she looked closer, noticing the tight corded muscles on his arms.

“She seems to have the situation under control.” stated the other boy, sounding a bit impressed. This one had longish hair that reflected the light, like spun gold; he held a slender sword that seemed to glow in the darkness. Both boys had thick black tattoos along their arms. Wait, Clary recognized the symbols. They were runes. Her hand tightened around the knife behind her back as she felt her body freeze in fear.

Clary knew who they were. They were Shadowhunters.


End file.
